


No story to be told

by Nagiru



Category: Bleach
Genre: (I think that one's obvious but just to be sure), (Kido Bondage), (Not really under- more like over-), (but maybe we can say light d/s), Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Masochism, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash, Smut, Wall Sex, blowjob, dom/sub tones, light edging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiru/pseuds/Nagiru
Summary: Teasing is all well and fine, until it's too much. Urahara is an incredibly patient man, but even he has his limits.[PWP | Established UraIchi]





	No story to be told

**Author's Note:**

> There's, like, zero plot in this. I tried, at one point, to make something of it, but... then I gave up, and was like, "nah, I'm practicing smut-writing". So. No plot whatsoever, but much porn. The whole story is composed of porn, all 3k words of it.  
> So, my practicing somehow took a turn into the "dirtier than I planned", so, read the tags beforehand? It's nothing too serious, but. Just to be sure... (Or, you can skip to the End Notes and read what I've written into this.)
> 
> ALSO! Quick note: it's really BDSM, even if not expressely stated (nor given any mention of safewords), so technically there should be some aftercare and such, but I didn't know what to write afterwards, and I just stopped it when it felt natural. So. Imagine an aftercare, if you'd please, or not, but it's an Established Relationship and such, so it's likely there _is_ some aftercare. Just. Out-of-scene. Sorry.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I don't own neither Bleach nor the characters here represented.
> 
> (for reasons, this is going to be changed to only show to registered users. Sorry.)

Ichigo’s back hit the wall with enough strength to make a dull sound and bring a grimace to his face, but he barely had time to start shaking his head before there was a warm body against his, hard muscles pressing him back into the wall before he could even try to escape.

“Kisuke…,” he complained, fighting a smile; he was quickly shut up, one of the blonde’s hands on his hips as warm lips pressed against his aggressively.

He _wanted_ to be annoyed, he wanted to complain at Kisuke because this was a _terrible_ place, but. But instead, he found his own hands tangled into Kisuke’s hair, his hat long since lost to their battle, as he tried to arch up into Kisuke and away from the cold wall behind him.

“You looked,” Kisuke started, voice low and heavy with arousal as they parted minutely, and Ichigo tried to focus on him. Focus on Kisuke’s voice and words, instead of the warm pressure against his thighs and the unforgiving hand on his hips, but it was _hard_. “You looked so damn _hot_ , Ichigo.” Another kiss robbed him of his scant focus just as he tried to reply, and he gave up, moaning softly as teeth bit down on his tongue, fingernails pressing _hard_ on his back. “So _hot_ when are fighting, sweaty and _happy_. I just wanted to pin you down and have my way with you,” _and aren’t you?_ , Ichigo wondered biting down on Kisuke’s jaw in retribution. “Especially when you went into Bankai.”

Ichigo huffed a small laugh; it wasn’t any news that Kisuke was disturbingly attracted to his Bankai form.

It also wasn’t much of a surprise that Kisuke had snapped. Ichigo _had_ been trying to test Kisuke’s limits…

Still. “Yeah?” he asked with a grin, moving one hand to palm against Kisuke’s erection. “And what were you planning to do to me?”

A sharp tug pulled his head back, into staring at grey eyes dark with a fire that Ichigo simply _loved_ to see in Kisuke, loved knowing he was the one to bring the meticulous planner to this level of pure _brokenness_.

“I planned on reminding you you’re _mine_ ,” Kisuke growled, before claiming his lips once again, much to Ichigo’s delight.

There was _nothing_ Ichigo loved as much as a possessive Kisuke. _Nothing_. Not even their first time had been as appealing as the time when Kisuke had _dressed Ichigo up_ , made him wear Kisuke’s own clothes (even his damned _hat_ ), just so Kisuke could mark Ichigo as _his_.

Ichigo just _loved_ it. And maybe the plan hadn’t quite been for them to have sex _here_ , but…

He squeezed at Kisuke’s erection, running his fingers around the defined form of Kisuke’s cock in his pants as he kissed Kisuke back, just as passionate and excited.

“So _do it_ ,” he taunted as they parted, moving his lips to Kisuke’s ear, watching the shiver that ran through him.

Oh, this hadn’t been the plan, but now that it was here, he was _so_ into it.

Seconds later, Ichigo felt his head tugged back again, Kisuke’s mouth descending onto his neck with painful surety, sharp teeth just on the verge of drawing blood, and abrasive lips that stung more than they comforted, and Ichigo loved every second of it.

“Clothes,” Kisuke mouthed at his jaw, before catching his earlobe between his teeth and biting down there, as well. “In the way.”

Sure were, too. Why did Kisuke always wear _so much_ , again? But he was distracted from complaining as one of Kisuke’s hands found its way under his top, finding his nipples with practice and twisting them sharply enough to make Ichigo draw in a sharp breath.

Right. Clothes.

He let go of Kisuke’s hair and erection, pulling his cloak and shirt off quickly, even if he had to push _a lot_ at Kisuke’s shoulders so the man would step back to help him out. Before Kisuke could go back to marking him up, he also took the opportunity to take his own Shihakusho off, falling out of Bankai with not quite a thought, having somewhat forgotten about _that_.

“Shame,” muttered Kisuke, but he was grinning, eyes alight with a kind of fire that Ichigo did _not_ enjoy quite as much, the fire that usually heralded his goddamn experiments, instead of sex, so Ichigo huffed and pulled him in for another quick kiss.

“To business, _getaboshi_ ,” he snapped, grinning at the face Kisuke pulled at the nickname. Kisuke should never have told him that it bothered him, if he didn’t want Ichigo _using_ that fact to help himself out, really.

Also, since the fact the bite was totally warranted, Ichigo still enjoyed it more than was half as necessary.

Now shirtless, the contact of skin was so much more enjoyable, hot muscles moving against him as he was restrained, hands pulled up and away from Kisuke’s body with an unorthodox, if familiar, use of a lower _bakudo_ from which Ichigo _could_ release himself quite quickly, but would defeat the whole purpose. He wanted Kisuke to take charge? Then he should _let_ Kisuke take charge.

And, anyway, it wasn’t like it was _difficult_ to let Kisuke do whatever he wanted. Gods, but did Kisuke have _plans_ ; outside, of course, but also _in_ the bedroom.

(Or against a wall, as it would be.)

“So,” Kisuke murmured, stepping away and just _looking_ at him, those smoldering eyes and that _bastard_ smirk on his face, and his focus was laser sharp and _melting_ , and Ichigo arched for him, let him see his erection pressing up against his pants even as he smirked back at the blond. “What should I do to you first?”

Well. He certainly had _ideas_ for that. “How about fucking me?” he offered sweetly, even as he chanted _yes, yes, yes_ inside his mind, wanting, _needing_ to feel Kisuke on him, _in_ him, marking him up and _claiming_ him.

Kisuke laughed, caressing a hand softly over Ichigo’s cheek for a moment before closing his fingers against Ichigo’s chin, making him look up.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Kisuke murmured, warm and soft, and Ichigo _keened_ , because he hated when Kisuke was like this, just as he _loved_ it. “Would you like my fingers? My tongue? Or would you prefer my cock?”

_All of the above._ “Your cock, Kisuke,” he answered snappily, trying to move forward and being held in place by the binds on his wrists. “All of you.”

The smile that was directed at him was pure _sin_ , and Ichigo took a momentary relief when he felt Kisuke stepping closer, warmer and softer and harder just as suddenly, all smooth skin and sharp edges and too much _heat_ for Ichigo to bear. “Of course, Ichigo- _chan_.”

Then Kisuke was gone. Ichigo blinked the afterimage of Kisuke’s _shunpo_ out of his eyes, feeling bereft and _cold_ after having had Kisuke pressed right against him.

“What the fuck?” he murmured annoyed and closed his eyes, sending his _reiatsu_ out to try to locate his stupid partner, when. Oh.

He grinned, opening his eyes again just in time to see Kisuke _shunpo_ back into the training room, holding a small bottle of lube in his hands.

“Now, now,” he greeted cheerfully, as if he hadn’t just left Ichigo _alone_ and _bound to a wall_. “Where was I, again?”

… Ichigo was going to _punch his face in_. Just as soon as they were finished, of course.

“Pants,” he groaned, because fuck if he wasn’t feeling constricted in his pants, by now. Also, Kisuke was talking _too much_ for someone who was supposed to be fucking him. “Pants _off_.”

Kisuke hummed, deliberately thoughtful, and Ichigo tried _very hard_ to be patient and let him have his way. He did.

And then, he arched all the way from the wall, and used one of his feet to pull Kisuke _closer_ , because _fuck this_.

“ _Pants_ _off_ ,” he repeated against Kisuke’s jaw, biting against his stubble with enough sharp admonishment to draw a chuckle from the blond.

“Oh, very well, dear,” Kisuke agreed, petting Ichigo’s side reassuringly before giving him a quick kiss and dropping to his knees.

Fuck. He looked down, dazed, and saw those grey eyes twinkling with glee up at him as Kisuke drew his pants _slowly_ down his hips.

_Fuck_.

“Kisuke,” he gasped, finally free of his confinements just to meet the wet warmth of Kisuke’s mouth, swifter than Ichigo could even _imagine_. “Shit, Kisuke,” he repeated, gasp turning into a moan as a tongue caressed softly his underside, just on the verge of _painful_. Kisuke loved keeping Ichigo on the edge of coming for _hours_ ; Ichigo absolutely _hated_ it.

The hum he received in return, of course, was completely meaningless, for no reason but to drive him _crazy_. Sometimes, Ichigo really hated _Kisuke_. Especially when Kisuke was _holding him down_ , mouth too much and not nearly enough, dragging so slowly down his cock he could feel each catch and slide of his lips over his skin, tongue so light he felt more tickles than pleasure from it.

Ichigo _hated him_.

Ichigo also absolutely did not think about begging, even if he moaned breathlessly as the hand not occupied with holding his hips to the wall dragged down slowly, caressing the inside of thighs and jumping over his perineum completely to squeeze at his ass cheeks.

_Fuck. This._

“ _Please_ , Kisuke,” he groaned, begging at last. “More, Kisuke, _more_ , please! I need you, please,” his fingers, his mouth, his cock, _anything_. He needed to _feel_ Kisuke. He needed to feel _more_.

This time, the vibration was _absolutely_ a chuckle, and Ichigo couldn’t even get mad at Kisuke for it, because it was _wonderful_ , especially since he _finally_ went those final inches down, letting Ichigo’s cock hit the back of his throat before he swallowed, blissful _pleasure_ at last.

Ichigo would have loved to clench his fingers on Kisuke’s hair, right then, and had to restrain himself _hard_ not to break out of the _bakudo_ , but he knew Kisuke, and knew that patience was always rewarded.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he sobbed breathlessly, scratching at his own hands instead. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_.”

Kisuke swallowed once more, fingers drawing him closer for a moment, before pulling away with a pop, smiling up at Ichigo with saliva connecting his lips to Ichigo’s cock.

“So beautiful, begging for me like this,” purred Kisuke, hand lazily drawing back from Ichigo’s ass to tease at his balls. “I love the way you always break down for me, Ichigo. Such a darling boy. _My_ darling boy.”

_Asshole_ , he thought fondly, even as he gasped softly, pulling uselessly at his bindings.

“Would you like for me to keep blowing you, or would you prefer that I fuck you?”

_Asshole_ , he thought again, and it wasn’t _nearly_ as fond, this time around.

“Kisuke!” he complained, trying to nudge his asshole of a partner with his knee. “You _know_ I want you to fuck me!”

The asshole, of course, laughed. _But_ , he _did_ get the lube back from the ground, where he’d tossed it aside, so Ichigo counted it as a victory, nonetheless.

“I _guess_ ,” he agreed, staring right into Ichigo’s eyes — before he leaned forward and licked a stripe from his balls to his cock’s head, light and _too hot_ , and too fucking _teasing_ , once again.

“Asshole,” Ichigo grumbled, out loud this time.

“ _Yours_ ,” agreed Kisuke cheerfully.

And proceeded to wreck him some more, because his mouth was utter _crap_ , but _talented_ crap, and fuck him, but Ichigo _loved_ how Kisuke always knew exactly how to make him forget his own anger.

He moaned loudly, scratching uselessly at his hands as he tried to fuck up into Kisuke’s mouth, feeling fingers against his entrance. The lube, of course, was _cold_ , and Ichigo shivered, trying even harder to get _away_ from it — and, consequently, more into Kisuke’s throat.

Kisuke’s vibrating, swallowing throat.

He hissed a curse, lost in pleasure as Kisuke both chuckled and swallowed around him at in quick sequence, keeping him too aware of the stimuli on his cock to really take notice of the prodding fingers in his ass until they were _there_ , too much and not nearly enough at the same time, cold and warm, foreign but _familiar_. They felt odd, as it usually was at first, but they were also very sure in their search, and soon enough Ichigo _keened_ , too many nerves being stimulated at once, too much pleasure for his brain to process.

He both hated and loved it.

The second finger was easy enough, warmer enough not to be taken into consideration as more than a slight burn, a small feeling of _too much_ (and also _more, more, more_ ), but as soon as both fingers went back to hitting mercilessly against Ichigo’s prostate, it was _all_ he could focus on. The fingers inside him, cruel in their pleasure, breaking him apart quickly and thoroughly, while Kisuke’s mouth kept him on the edge of an orgasm, always too moist and too hot, but not nearly _enough_ ; always too loose, too light, too _far away_ , pulling him close to his orgasm, just so he could pull _away_.

Ichigo wanted _more_. He wanted _so much more_ it hurt.

“Kisuke,” he panted dangerously, opening his eyes to glare hazily down at the man between his legs. “You either fuck me _right now_ , or I’m not responding for my acts!”

Kisuke’s expression was downright _devious_ , which of course led Ichigo to brace for just about anything.

He was not disappoint, therefore, when Kisuke decided to reward his “bratiness” — as Kisuke was so fond of putting it — by deepthroating him slowly while staring up at Ichigo’s face.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, grasping for something to hold and ending up with deep scratches down the back of a hand for his troubles. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, _Kisuke,_ ” he keened, trembling from the effort of trying to buck up and being held in place, instead.

And then Kisuke was gone, and he was feeling utterly _cold_ , air hitting his cock after being involved in Kisuke’s mouth for too long.

“ _Now_ are you gonna fuck me?” he tried to demand, but was aware it came out more as a whine, still out of breath and mind with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Well,” Kisuke murmured, smiling slightly and twisting his fingers inside of Ichigo a couple more times before taking them away, as well. “It depends. Do you think you deserve it?”

Ichigo was still panting and hard as a rock, but he had enough presence of mind to snarl at Kisuke, right now. “That depends,” he mocked, voice tight as he tried not to break free of his restraints. “Do you think you would like to fuck me again sometime soon?”

Kisuke laughed, getting up from the ground with slick fingers and moist lips, and dark eyes and a very noticeable tent in his pants. “So feisty,” he replied, cheerful. “I guess I’ll have to make do. Oh well.”

Before Ichigo could reply anything, he was being silenced by a kiss, tongue delving deep into his mouth without waiting for permission, and teeth biting down on his lips on the way out.

“I hate you so much, sometimes,” Ichigo promised, nosing against Kisuke’s ear as Kisuke leaned down to bite at the side of his neck that was mark-free. Kisuke bit hard enough to draw blood, this time, and Ichigo felt his toes curling, a high whimper escaping his throat at the dual feeling of pain and overwhelming pleasure.

“And sometimes I adore you,” Kisuke promised back, sweetly. “Especially when you are mine like this.”

_Oh, good._

Ichigo smiled tiredly, and raised a thigh to rub against Kisuke’s clothed dick, wanting Kisuke’s pants _off_.

“Good,” he said against Kisuke’s jaw. “Now pants off and _claim me_ , asshole.”

This time, Kisuke obeyed him.

The rustle of clothes hitting the floor came so swiftly, Ichigo feared Kisuke had just invented a new method of _shunpo_ that left their clothes behind. Then, there was the blessed pop of the lube’s cap opening, and Kisuke was raising Ichigo’s legs to rest on his hips, and Ichigo was holding tight, feeling the breach of lubed cock against his ass.

It felt too big, he felt too full, he felt like he was _burning_ , being consumed from the inside-out and it was so _good_.

“ _Finally_ ,” he gasped, moaning at the end of it as Kisuke thrust with just the right angle to brush over Ichigo’s prostate.

Kisuke started replying something, but Ichigo was tired of hearing Kisuke’s voice, right now; he wanted to be _fucked_ , not teased. So, he leaned forward best he could, pulling him the rest of the way with his legs, and claimed Kisuke’s lips in a kiss.

Kisuke still laughed against his lips, but Ichigo didn’t mind it so much since he kept thrusting into him, sliding against all his nerves and lighting him on fire, too full and too hot and too _right_ all at the same time. If Kisuke wanted to laugh, he could, as long as he _kept fucking Ichigo._

Also. “ _Deeper_ ,” he moaned, because, this was _awesome_ , but it could be so much _better_ too, if only Kisuke would _give it to him_.

“You’re so demanding,” Kisuke panted, a groan breaking his sentence in the middle as he thrust sharply twice, blessedly deep, sinfully _hard_ , before trying to regain a pace. Ichigo _loved_ seeing him like this, broken, and loved the way Kisuke let himself be so much _rougher_ when he lost himself, so of course he didn’t help matters, clenching around the cock inside him and moving out of the rhythm Kisuke was trying to apply. “Fuck, Ichigo.” Ichigo laughed breathlessly, giving Kisuke a quick, sharp peck, even as he kept moving searching for _his own_ pleasure, needing Kisuke deeper and faster, if he could not get harder. “You’re so _hot_. So beautiful for me, darling, moaning and begging and taking me so _stunningly_. I want to chain you to my bed, taking you whenever I want, feeding you and keeping you _mine_ , and mine only, away from every single one of your friends so they won’t ever try to rob you from me.”

So, _so_ possessive. It’s really _cute_.

“But then,” Ichigo panted, biting sharply on Kisuke’s throat, legs burning, breath stuttering, but in a better high than any battle could ever provide him. “You wouldn’t have time for your experiments.”

Kisuke hummed, kissing the corner of Ichigo’s mouth, before changing rhythms once more, and taking his lubed hand from Ichigo’s hip to his cock, tugging fast and hard, slick hand moving up and down against Ichigo’s still wet skin, keeping pace with his thrusts and distracting Ichigo very effectively.

“I guess you are right,” Kisuke announced, light and cheerful. “Guess I’ll have to make do with this, then.” And moved down, mouthing along his neck and shoulders, to his collarbones and chest, quick pecks and long drags of tongue that left him burning, and small bites that barely itched the surface of Ichigo’s _need_ , until he involved one of Ichigo’s nipples in his mouth and _bit_. Sharp and hot, cold teeth and warm tongue, pleasure and pain and everything in-between, and Ichigo leaned into him, trembling and suddenly _there_ , and another tug of hand had him coming, cum splattering Kisuke’s hand and both of their bodies from the intensity of it.

Every single thrust after that was _too much_ , his body too oversensitive after his orgasm, but he never asked Kisuke to stop — wouldn’t, even if he managed to speak, right then, between whimpers and half-choked screams, breathless and overwhelmed —, and Kisuke knew better, now. Knew that Ichigo didn’t actually _mind_ , even if it hurt and left him a trembling, whining mess as he tried not to pull away, because Kisuke now knew Ichigo actually _enjoyed_ the pain. Enjoyed feeling _too much_ , because it made him feel _alive_.

Ichigo _enjoyed_ the pain, even when he wanted only to lie down and curl under the covers, because it felt so _good_. It felt good, having Kisuke lose himself to his own needs; felt good, having strong hands clenched around his hips, strong teeth locked around his shoulder and moans echoing through his bones as Kisuke sought only _his own_ pleasure, at last, forceful and _beautiful_. It felt _good_ to be used for Kisuke’s pleasure, because it made him feel _useful_ , in a way that had nothing to do with battles.

Ichigo loved this feeling. He loved losing himself to his pleasure and his needs, loved feeling his own age, for once. Loved being _Kisuke’s_ , just as much as Kisuke loved owning him.

He came down from his high just in time to feel the fingers on his hips spasm, the teeth on his shoulder clench so tight he felt blood dripping down his chest, and the cock inside of him spurt. He felt sticky, full, too warm, and he felt both like he needed a bath and that he could sleep just like this.

“I _do_ adore you, sometimes,” he said hoarsely, resuming their past conversation as he finally freed himself of the _bakudo_ keeping his hands in place. “When you’re not being an asshole, that is.”

Kisuke laughed, just as hoarse, and kissed his newest wound apologetically. “I know,” he answered, calmer, but incredibly _mischievous_ , now. “You prefer when I’m _in_ your asshole.”

He _totally_ deserved the smack Ichigo gave him.

**Author's Note:**

> SUMMARY OF POSSIBLE WARNINGS:  
> Urahara is a control!Dom, and Ichigo somewhat of a pain!Sub, so. Light Masochism, light Control, Light Bondage... there's some light Edging, too.  
> If you need more information on the pain play: it's mainly biting, in case you're squicky about it. But, there's also some thoughts at the end that border on dangerous, so... (and oversensitivity, too)  
> Also, creative usage of kidos. Urahara is a genius, and he decided he'd enjoy using their powers for sex.
> 
> ... I think that's it, for the warnings.  
> For other related notes: please, practice safe sex. I know there's no condom even _mentioned_ in the story, but, well, let's argue that neither of them are completely human, and thus, Urahara likely is not able to get any diseases. Also, they _do_ have access to healing magic, so, any kind of wound can be healed quickly, if need be.  
>  Even more important, of course, remember SSC ( **S** afe, **S** ane, **C** onsensual), if you're partaking in any kind of BDSM practices. Everything here was partook between consenting parties, but maybe the Safety part can be... dodgy. Who knows.
> 
> Uh, so, please, if you can, let me know what you thought about it? (And hope you've enjoyed it!)


End file.
